


Acts [1 of 5]

by lone_lilly



Category: Castle
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-09
Updated: 2012-09-09
Packaged: 2017-11-13 22:43:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/508516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lone_lilly/pseuds/lone_lilly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>five sex acts without a plot to call home makes a sequel</p>
            </blockquote>





	Acts [1 of 5]

**Author's Note:**

> I had no intention of writing any more in the Scenes "universe" and yet here I am. This one is for the sweetest [](http://sparkles-mouse.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://sparkles-mouse.livejournal.com/)**sparkles_mouse** who managed to trick me into writing again. I don't care how she tells that story. That's what happened.

**Title:** Acts [1 of 5]  
 **Author:** [](http://lone-lilly.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**lone_lilly**](http://lone-lilly.dreamwidth.org/) || [](http://onlylonelilly.livejournal.com/profile)[**onlylonelilly**](http://onlylonelilly.livejournal.com/)  
 **Fandom:** _Castle_  
 **Pairing:** Castle/Beckett  
 **Rating:** NC-17  
 **Spoilers:** through S4  
 **Summary:** five sex acts without a plot to call home makes a sequel  
 **Notes:** I had no intention of writing any more in the Scenes "universe" and yet here I am. This one is for the sweetest [](http://sparkles-mouse.livejournal.com/profile)[**sparkles_mouse**](http://sparkles-mouse.livejournal.com/) who managed to trick me into writing again. I don't care how she tells that story. That's what happened.

Thanks to [](http://mammothluv.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**mammothluv**](http://mammothluv.dreamwidth.org/) for the help. If this sucks, it's not her fault! ;)

__

 

 

I.

 

 

 

 

 

_I decided you look well on me, well on me, so let's go somewhere no one else can see you and me_

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It's his hand on her thigh that wakes her. 

His thumb is rubbing aimlessly across the outward seam of her jeans, fingers curled lightly around her knee, pressing just hard enough there to make the skin underneath the denim burn hyperaware with his touch. For a moment she forgets they are on a plane halfway across the Atlantic and she wonders what sort of sound he would make if she uncrossed her legs, moved his hand higher with her own. A growl, she thinks. Maybe that half-surprised choking noise he does when she's thrown him for a loop, the sound that makes her body sing with desire for him because even after all this time she can still catch him off guard and she _loves_ that.

A cough from several rows back pulls her out of her fantasy and she peeks out from her lashes to see Castle engrossed in whatever novel he's reading on his iPad. He reads quickly, his finger flicking across the page every few seconds and yet she knows he would still be able to recall even the smallest of details if she asked. It's one of the things she had picked up on long before they were practically living together, when he would devour information at crime scenes, in the bullpen, any little piece of information she might share with him in her squad car, storing it away in an endless bank of knowledge to pull out at the drop of a hat.

She has always been the exact opposite, preferring instead to pour over every detail as if they were jigsaw pieces, twisting them in her mind until they locked together to form a clear picture. It took her days to read a novel because she'd take periodic breaks, mull over this plot and that one, inspect the characters, their motivations. She worked best that way too, staring at her murder board as she examined every shred of evidence until she found that missing connection that made everything else fall into place. 

It had taken her awhile to admit it but she and Castle made a good team. A great team. He complemented her, his outrageous leaps of imagination filling out her thorough timelines until they found their murderer in the middle. She is all blue sky edges and he is that funky grey piece that doesn't look like it would fit anywhere at all until one clever turn and suddenly it pulls the whole puzzle together.

"You awake?" he mumbles, interrupting her thoughts as he flips another page and she stretches her legs as far as the seats in front of her allow, toes curling deliciously in her boots at the space. Flying first class is starting to grow on her.

"No," she says blandly. "Still sleeping."

He snorts softly at her derision. "Then stop breathing hot air on my neck."

She smirks as she lifts her head from his shoulder and settles back into her own seat. Her neck is stiff from where she'd fallen asleep on him and she rolls her head to each shoulder trying to crack it. A lock of her hair falls across her face and she catches a whiff of his cologne lingering there as she tucks it back behind her ear. She loves the way he smells, the way he makes _her_ smell, just from an hour or two of sleeping against him. She's fairly certain he has no idea how much that turns her on or he'd have sprayed the whole precinct with Burberry Sport by now. "I thought you liked that."

Castle glances at her, eyebrows raised lasciviously as he whispers, "I only like it when we're... you know."

"When we're _you know_?" she laughs, tsking her tongue softly against her teeth. "Such a way with words."

"We are in a _crowded_ airplane," he pouts indignantly. She glances around the dimly lit interior of the airplane cabin and even in the dark she can see that most of their fellow passengers are asleep. "I didn't think you'd want me to say when we're fu- Hey! No pinching!"

"Then don't be an ass," she chides as he rubs his bi-cep furiously. "And don't be such a baby. That didn't hurt."

"You're so _cruel_ ," he glares dramatically and she purses her lips to keep from laughing at him. No reason to encourage his theatrics; God knows he's bad enough without it. Besides, they still have about four more hours in the air and she feels antsy already in spite of her nap. She wants to be in London already, maybe enjoying a shower that's as hot as she can stand it as she stretches out her tired muscles underneath the spray. Or maybe in bed. A bed would be good. Comfy pillows, a thick duvet, and Castle.

Mm, bliss.

Humming noncommittally, she leans back against her seat as her eyes slip closed again. "And yet you begged for it for four years."

The sound he makes in his throat is one of his less manly ones. "I most certainly did not _beg_."

"You did," she assures him, resisting the urge to peek at his expression. "You begged."

She hears the soft thump of the magnets meeting on his iPad cover before he shifts in his seat, stowing the tablet away, and she feels him reach above them to adjust the light, suddenly dousing their row in darkness.

"Maybe I begged first," he murmurs by her ear and even though she was expecting some sort of retaliation for her teasing, he still makes her jump. Which makes him chuckle. "But I've made you beg plenty of times since."

She cracks an eye open to glare at him and he smiles smugly at her as his hand finds her knee again, kneading firmly the place where the sharp bone of her patella smoothes out to tendon. Even through denim his fingers have the power to make her shiver with the memory of every time he's grazed the serrated edge of his teeth there on the journey up her thigh, and she sighs as she turns her face to his, his lips ghosting across her own in the process.

"Not begging," she clarifies, chasing his mouth with her own until she can nip at his bottom lip sharply. "Giving direction."

"A rose is a rose," he argues and then they're kissing before she can retort, the thick swell of his tongue gliding against hers, penetrating and hot, and _honestly_ , they're on a _plane_ for Christ's sake, but he's kissing her like he's got her spread out in his bed instead and what were they teasing each other about in the first place?

Oh, right. _Begging_.

"Men cannot count, they do not know that two and two make four if women do not tell them so," she mutters back when they break for air a moment later, stuttering over the end when his hand crawls the distance between her knee and pelvis without hesitating for permission. She doesn't know why she's surprised; he's always been bold with his words. That he should be with his hands (and mouth and tongue and...) as well only makes sense.

He grins devilishly as he pets her, his thumb pressing against her in a slow, tight dance that makes her hips cant forward, seeking friction that's not nearly enough. "Romance is everything."

"It is very easy to love alone," she warns through gritted teeth as she presses herself harder against his palm.

"I love it when you quote Gertrude Stein at me."

"Mm," she agrees distracted, trying to hold back the moan that gets caught in her throat and comes out in a strangled cough of his name instead, "Castle."

"Shh," he whispers to her, his mouth on her ear again as he teases the soft whorls with the tip of his tongue and _God_ that feels amazing, so light and wet when his hand between her legs is rough and the denim is scratchy, the contradiction of sensations making her head spin.

She hates that he can do this to her, make her forget any inhibition she even thought of having. She's a _cop_ for Christ's sake, and he's got her trying to ride his hand in the middle of an airplane and she knows it doesn't matter one bit that it's dark and probably no one is paying attention to them because if he pulled this stunt on a well-lit flight, she'd probably still let him get away with it.

But she probably wouldn't reach for him in return like she does now, her hand winding its way underneath his button-down shirt to stroke him. He's rock-hard already and she whimpers as she finds his mouth again, wanting nothing more right now than to crawl into his lap and take him inside her, fuck him until they are both mindless with it.

She doesn't think it would take them long, especially if his reaction to her fingernails raking down his length through his own jeans is anything to judge by.

She hisses softly in warning. "You're breathing too heavy."

"Well, what do you expect with your hand on my--"

"Castle!"

"Exactly!"

She pushes away from him with a glare, ignoring the groan he gives her when her hand falls away from his cock and swats his own from between her thighs. They have to stop this now if they're going to stop at all. And she doesn't want a second-rate hand job in the middle of first class. Not when there's another option. She's pretty sure he'd agree with her id she gave him the chance.

"Okay," she murmurs, looking around the cabin again as she runs shaking fingers through her hair, trying to calm the storm of her heart beat with a deep breath. "Okay. The bathroom on the left. Give me a few seconds lead before you follow me in."

 

 

___

 

 

 

"It's such a tight space!"

"Save the sweet talk for when you're inside me," she bosses, the two of them pressed flush against each other as they try to maneuver around the cramped restroom. They're both tall but Castle manages to take up most of whatever space there is and she struggles to get her jeans open, the zipper catching when she yanks too hard.

"Ow, watch your elbow!" he hisses.

"Sorry," she rolls her eyes, bouncing once on her heels as she finally gets her fly open and then she's reaching for his, shoving her hand inside to wrap around him and pull him out. _God_ , she loves how hard he can get, how hard she can get him, how big, and she feels herself clench in anticipation.

"How do you want to do this?" he groans, eyeing the door he's got her pushed up against dubiously.

"Haven't you done this before?"

"Yes, but I was drunk then. Logistics are hardly a concern when you can barely see straight."

She doesn't ask for more details; doesn't want to know. Instead, she bites at his lip, tastes his mouth, sucks his tongue to make him forget. He's hers now. It's his hand between _her_ legs, stroking her wetness from her with practiced fingers. It doesn't matter who he had before. Or how.

"Sit down," she orders, twisting her hand around the tip of his cock, the fingers of her other hand slipping lower to cup him.

Hers, he's _hers_ , and she wants him. _Now_.

His mouth pulls away from hers with a pop and he glances behind him at the toilet, making a face as he realizes what she wants him to do. "Ew, no!"

"Castle," she whines in frustration, abandoning him to push her pants and underwear down. "I can't get my jeans and boots off in here. You have to sit down!"

"I wouldn't make _you_ sit on it."

She makes a face as she tucks her fingers in the waistband of his boxers, giving his pants a shove. "Do you want to stop?"

"No," he grumbles and he looks down at the toilet again before he sighs long-sufferingly and perches right on the edge. She expects him to complain more but then his hands are hot against her hips, helping her turn to face the door, and he's pulling her down on top of him, impaling her with one hard stroke, making her back arch and a low keen vibrate through her throat.

She's so full this way, his cock reaching so deep inside her, his thighs pinning hers to the narrow stall that she feels like he's going to split her apart. Bracing herself, she lifts herself up, lets his hands on her waist guide her back down.

"Yess," she cries out, lets her head fall forward on her shoulders as they do it again, again, the rhythm building up quick and mercilessly as she fucks him backwards, begs him to fuck her harder, her thighs burning with the effort of each thrust.

"Glad you're enjoying yourself," he grits out, digging fingertips into her skin hard enough to bruise and it's just so good, so goddamn _amazing_ , that it doesn't take long before her whole body begins to tense with anticipation, white hot pleasure searing down her spine to bloom outward where  
his cock scrapes deliciously against her walls, her orgasm thundering through her, breaking her apart, blinding her.

He's not quite there with her, not yet but he's close, and the impact of his thrusts as she comes apart sends her into another orgasm before the first has even died down, her second climax milking him of his own until they are both left wrecked because of it, bone-weak and panting for air.

"I guess we can mark this off your fuckit list," she says dryly, resting her back against his chest as her hands fall bonelessly to her lap. She can feel his grin as he grazes his teeth gently along the ridge of her shoulder, his hand stroking her thigh in a way that makes her wish they were somewhere they could take their time and do this again.

"You said fuckit list," he tells her, the glee obvious in his voice and she rolls her eyes.

"I know," she groans as she pushes herself up on weak legs and reaches for a paper towel to clean herself up with. "You've ruined me."

"Damn right, I have," he agrees smugly, watching her shimmy her jeans back up her legs, her elbow coming precariously close to his groin. " _Twice._ "

She shakes her head before pressing her ear to the door to listen for the flight attendants. "Shut up, Castle."

The coast is clear from what she can tell and she exits the bathroom to make her way to their seats, her chin high as she refuses to glance around at any of their neighboring passengers in case any of them happen to be paying attention.

Leaning her head against the window, she lets her eyes slip closed, and when Castle returns a few minutes later dropping into the seat beside her, she blinks blearily at him, surprised that she had drowsed that quickly.

"For the record" he whispers softly against her ear, pressing a quick kiss to her temple. "You were the one begging for it just then."

She shifts immediately, her head tucking against his shoulder exactly the same way she'd woken up earlier, and smiles. Maybe she had but that doesn't mean she has to give him the satisfaction of admitting it. "Just making sure you did it right."


End file.
